Yesterday it was sunny
and I basked like a cat.
Today I am listening to the rain come down
while inside different parts of me cry.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
The sky is weeping and I am sad
but the trees are happy to see rain.
Inside the house, mosquitos gather around the ceiling light
and later they will torment me again.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
In August, I am sad,
sensing the end of summer.
In September, I am restless,
unsure of what to expect.
Come October, I hope to feel better:
that which I fear, here.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
A pool in sun,
children playing,
a girl swimming laps.
Around:
trees dancing,
plants stretching,
birds…
An upstairs window darkens,
as an older woman steps in.
Looking down,
she notices the girl and frowns.
Out across the garden:
clouds move in,
rain spits,
hands yank hair.
The grinding of gears,
the choke of emotion;
the descending of stairs.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
You came into my house and took without thanking;
and even though I gave you all that I had,
all that I was able:
it wasn’t enough.
In the silence of your departure,
I examine my loss:
unpicking it and licking it
until it calcifies.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Rebecca L. Atherton 